Beating marsipoforanthrope

Since my first chest hair popped out and my parents told me that I, like them, would start turning into a wolf every full moon, I've been keeping myself keenly aware of the lunar cycle. When my parents promised me lycanthrope, they were unaware that I have a genetic mutation-mutation (big surprise, an already volatile genetic mutation didn't work as expected); I have a birth defect that turns me into a koala every full moon.

Meet strantor, the werekoala:

You cannot begin to fathom the angst brought about by turning into a koala once a month. There's no end to the stressors involved, but put yourself in my position and consider just this one handful:

The innocent condescension in people's faces when they look down on you in all your unsurpassed cute cuddliness. (I really am cute; the pic above was taken toward the end of one of the worst days of my life)

The unmanageable lust for eucalyptus in a country where it isn't native (ever chugged a bottle of Bath & Body Works Eucalyptus Spearmint Shampoo? I have.)

The utter disappointment of your werewolf parents.

Fearing for your life once per month when your family turns into predators and you turn into prey.

Not being tall enough to open doors

Not being able to drive a car

Being compelled to climb trees. (Actually, having six thumbs is awesome, and climbing trees is fun. But getting to the top of the tallest tree in town and then turning into a naked human with fractional climbing ability isn't.)

The pain. Oh, the pain. Imagine cramming the entire mass of your adult body into the space occupied by a toddler; the bones that would have to break, the organs that would have to rupture... and they do.

losing 12 vacation days per year to a sickness that you'll never have a doctor's note for.

People in online fora not believing you when you tell them that you're a werekoala.

I've searched for years for a cure to this horrid inconvenience to no avail; that is, until a few months ago when the thought occurred to me: it's been happening every full moon ever since my parents told me it would happen every full moon. They spoke of the full moon change with certainty, and my experiences shortly thereafter only served to reinforce that foregone conclusion. But what if it's a self fulfilling prophesy? What if it's not a curse, but actually an ability, and one which I have control over?

For the past few months I've been intentionally disregarding the lunar cycle. My idea is that by being totally oblivious of the full moon, I won't step on some intercranial tripwire that sends me into koala mode. The first few tries didn't pan out well. The full moons were so extreme that they couldn't be avoided; they were even in the news, being labeled crazy things like "total eclipse of full dark witch blood moon" and such. I was losing hope, but the last full moon offered up a little morsel.

Actually, looking back on the first half of the last full moon experience, it would appear that I might be onto something. I was totally unaware of the coming full moon and I didn't have any of the all-too-familiar eucalyptus cravings at all that day. That's a first. When I went to bed, the shrinking hadn't started yet; usually it starts on my drive home from work. Another first.

I went to sleep as a normal human and was woken by pain... but it wasn't bone crushing, organ rupturing pain; it was bladder pain. When I resolved to get up and go to the bathroom, I pulled back the covers and I remember seeing just one thumb on my hand. A good sign. I pulled back the covers, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and leaned forward... forward, forward, further forward, I couldn't stop myself; I was unprepared for the effects of having half of my body mass in my disproportionately huge koala head. My swollen mellon pulled me right off the edge of the bed, and I fell about 3 stories (proportional to my body size). Smacked the big 'ol cute koala dome on the corner of the night stand on the way down.

So there I am, laying on the tile floor, bleeding rainbow-colored pure adorableness all over the place, with broken doll-sized arms and unable to call out for help in English. From the floor I could see the full moon through the window. Then the transformation pain started. I finished the shapeshifting I had started and then I laid there staring at the moon in hatred until the morning when I started the reversal transformation. That's the one good thing about all of it; all wounds are healed in the shift back to humanoid form. Well, that an having 6 thumbs.

I have a little more hope now. I feel like a little bit of progress was made. I will take away the box spring and bedframe; just put the mattress on the floor, and try again. Better luck next month, if I can remember not to remember that the full moon is coming.

I don't mean to high jack the thread (I cannot figure out the topic anyhow), but...

I saw Frank Zappa doing a TV interview when he was sick. That was the instant when I realized I was past the "growing up" stage of my life and I was actually in the "aging" stage. Frank was the first rock star I knew of that died of disease/natural causes rather than drug overdose, murder, suicide or drunk driving accident like all of those who went before him.

The first time I heard Zappa, I thought I was too stoned to understand. Then I bought the album, played it sober, and knew he was a genius. Eight years later, I went to see him in Anaheim and he didn't show up for the New Year's Eve Show until 1 A.M.

Wow! Brilliant guy! Wrote and performed like he was born knowing how to be a musician! Then didn't show up for the concert.

So, thanks for the prose, strantor. It made more sense than some of Zappa's music.

The first time I heard Zappa, I thought I was too stoned to understand. Then I bought the album, played it sober, and knew he was a genius. Eight years later, I went to see him in Anaheim and he didn't show up for the New Year's Eve Show until 1 A.M.

Wow! Brilliant guy! Wrote and performed like he was born knowing how to be a musician! Then didn't show up for the concert.

So, thanks for the prose, strantor. It made more sense than some of Zappa's music.

The first thing I ever watched on CNN was Zappa's testimony in Washington DC about Tipper Gore's project to censor lyrics and label albums. He had great arguments and I think he stunned the senators with his intelligence.